[center][h1][color=Thistle]Eternal Beauty[/color][/h1][/center]

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A new river flowed, bathing the broken land in sustenance. It filled cracks with relief, washed away old wounds and soaked up white ash, mixing it with the mud and earth it broke asunder on it’s mighty trek to the beyond. Naturally, the water flowed into old river beds, choked with the bones of the damned, stagnated by the end of all things and at last, set itself beside weathered shores. More dead things lay upon those old beaches, some buried by the oppressive ash, others chewed to pieces by the hungry. Still more, forever locked in the eternal struggle for survival…

The trees had burned to stumps long ago, the plants had been blackened to a crisp, carried away by ferocious winds, while the very air lingered with a sickly sweet scent. Clouds choked the skies, darkening further as time blurred and passed. The ruins of the time before, now but ancient and decrepit, were the silent watchers of an old friend seen anew. One that now lapped at their structures, promising a sweet relief to become something else, something new. They fell willingly into the depths, causing the spray to fly high and the earth to rumble as the water continued on its journey. 

That it did, ever on, but something lingered beside the shore as the water calmed. A presence that had been with the river since is conception from the mountain side. It had watched. It had seen. What had it seen while it watched? The thoughts came in flashes. Dust. Rocks. Dead. Dead. Dead. Water. Twisted things. Old ruins. More dead. Skeletal. Mummified. Ugly. The words resounded with it, for such words it had never realized could be. What let it have such thoughts? What was this… this anger? The water began to churn and boil as it began to feel for the first time. More thoughts flashed by, all resulting in one inevitable conclusion- What it saw was ugly. Deformed. A grotesque amalgamation of all things unpleasant. Yes… Yes...

It knew the world it found itself in was so full of ugliness...

The river began to explode with noxious appetite, hissing with steam and bubbling with violence. What was, was changed within that river of death, etched so full with pain. Brimming consciousness, full of disbelief, full of growing anger, full of want, full of… Need. A need to be. A need to change, to make change. It did not understand why everything was so hideous and deformed and appalling and foul and disgusting. Was this what the rest of the world looked like? It became offended at the mere thought that such disarray and ineptitude could be allowed, much less thought of. It could not- Would not be allowed any longer. 

Now was the time for change. Beautiful change. Beauty that it would be the catalyst of.

The steam grew thick as the water reached a tempo. Then within the blink of an eye the water stilled, the steam fluttered away and from the silence, a skeleton rose. Risen from the depths of confinement, it outstretched it’s arms as it hovered towards the shore, water dripping off old bone. As it neared the bank, the ground pulsed. Arcs of light danced from its fingertips towards fresh clay, dyed white by the ash. Like a magnet to metal, the clay sped to the skeleton, nay, the frame, which paused, raising its head to the sky. The clay thus formed muscle and sinew as it raced down the arms, forming flesh in its wake. Slender fingers gave way to nimble arms, forming and molding as the clay took shape. It’s torso took a gracile appeal, one of femininity with small breasts and narrow shoulders. A high waist revealed long legs and small feet. From the neck the clay quickly formed a symmetrical face. Oval in shape, with a small nose, soft lips and high cheekbones. Eyes formed closed, still held above as long, curly locks of snowwhite swept past the shoulders. Her form, for she was a she, was divinely beautiful. 

Blood turned to ichor and it coursed through her veins as her arms fell to her side and she descended to hover over the wet earth. When she at last looked forward and opened her eyes, they were of the same paleness but alert. Those eyes fell at first to her feet and she wiggled her toes, then to her hands where she flexed her fingers, her eyes growing wide before she at last gazed out upon a broken land and her lips turned from indifference to a frown, eyes narrowing. 

She stood apart. A being of change in a world that needed exactly that. She knew not what came before or what brought about such catastrophe but that whatever had caused such problems was undeserving of being remembered. It was her world now and she would make it in her own image.

For she was Wyn and Wyn was beauty. She was a god given form, this she also knew. The one truth of her existence. She flexed her fingers again. This land would grow to eventual quiet soon, where nothing remained but the dark. There would be no salvation for those that remained living in a world that could not provide. It was such a depressing reality but reality nonetheless. Yet the river proved change was already happening. She could feel it in the air and through the earth. There was hope.

Wyn floated up into the sky, high enough to have a good vantage of the surrounding views. Much of it looked the same but it did not have to remain so. She outstretched her hands over the river and with a flick of her wrist, a great crack ripped through the earth, carving a new path. The water rushed through this new path and Wyn acted further. The land trembled beneath her might. It split apart and cracked, groaned and collapsed as the earth shook and a great plume of dust billowed into the sky. The remains of the old were absorbed, washed away and covered by the waters of Wyn. This was not enough. Divinity coursed through her veins, why be afraid to use it?

With but a thought this time she envisioned what she wanted and let it free. A warm breeze wrapped itself up and around her and the Goddess ran her hands through her hair as she let the land know her power. When the land had at last quieted, Wyn flickered her hand, sending the dust and ash away on a great wind, so she could look upon her first work. A great body of water had formed, stretching as far as she could see. A jewel in a dark world. She descended, taking it in. Sandy white beaches had formed, soft to the touch as her feet at last felt the earth. The waters were calm despite the distant sounds of turmoil, and opaque white, with calm waves that kissed her toes with a feeling of warmth. From where she stood she could see that some of the earth around and within, had not fallen and transformed into the earth. In fact, they now stood as breathtaking vistas, meant to overlook the tranquil waters. Or it would.

A sigh escaped her lips, for something was missing. Something vital to truly appreciate the work she had made. She looked up into the sky, for the first time seeing what sat above and found a moon. Had that been there the entire time? She did not know but it did little to give her light, for that was what she needed most. A source so bright it could touch her sea and dazzle the world with its beauty. 

That would be her next step. Wyn looked out over the sea, knowing she would return but something caught her eye. There, in the water. She bade the waves to go around her and as the water stilled before the Goddess she saw herself for the first time. She crouched down, fascinated by her appearance, any other thought slowly slipping away as the Goddess of beauty stared at herself for a time.

[hider=Summary]
Wyn is born after the floodgates are opened. She then thinks about some stuff then makes an inland sea but realizes she needs sunlight for it to truly be a masterpiece. Before she can go do that she gets mesmerized by her own appearance and might be there for a while.
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[hider=MA]
Wyn makes an inland sea. Location will be on the map in discord I am sure. 
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